


Oh, To the Core

by thegoodthebadandthenerdy



Category: Fantastic Four (Comicverse), Spider-Man (Comicverse)
Genre: Cold Weather, M/M, Short & Sweet, Writing Exercise, and admit your feelings, sometimes you gotta fog up the glass of your bestie's window
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-27 10:39:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19789180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegoodthebadandthenerdy/pseuds/thegoodthebadandthenerdy
Summary: [Let him in] / Don't let him in-challenge: use the words certain, steam, and delicate





	Oh, To the Core

**Author's Note:**

> should i be working on my spideytorch week pieces? yes! am i writing these little vignettes instead? absolutely! one day i'll leanr but that day isn't today

The air was thick and blue with cold, each street a clogged pore of cascading voices and forced breath. The reports were rolling in from every local channel about pressure systems and heavy snow dustings. Further south that would've struck panic in the hearts of every person, bread and milk tumbling off the shelves while the lights flickered in and out. For the natives of the state, however, it was just a normal Tuesday, only warmer than the last.

Peter himself stood by the living room window in a battered t-shirt and sweatpants, the skin of his arms pricking with something other than chills. He could hear it--padding up on the roof, even though he was firmly in his third floor apartment, all the windows tucked in.

He sighed, head tilted back to crack him stiff neck, eyes shut to loosen the skin around them. He counted the footsteps: seven to the roof's ledge, and another shuddering thirteen down the fire escape before there was a pause. 

Any other time he would've moved for the web shooters tucked neatly between the cushions of the couch, but as he tipped one ear higher than the other he knew the gait like he knew every alley with a dumpster in this damn city. Softly, he smiled to himself, eyes still closed.

Six more hopping steps, and the fire escape landing outside his window rattled, daring itself not to snap as a knuckle tapped taughtly against the windowpane. 

"Wha'd'you want, Johnny?" he called through the turn of his lips, certain of nothing more than he was of who was standing outside.

The tapping continued, light and sweet like the snow cream Aunt May used to make in her trusty metal mixing bowl when Peter was younger, and he relented only so he could try Johnny's patience a little longer. Head cocked to the left, he lifted a thick brow and waited. 

Johnny grinned, tongue peeking through his teeth as he tottered in closer, almost pressing his nose against the glass. 

"I haven't washed those windows since I got the place--so I wouldn't do that," Peter advised, hands cradling his bare elbows.

Rolling his eyes, Johnny dragged his index finger in quick succession down the glass before brushing his breath against it. Steam rippled through the air, bubbling and expanding over his handiwork like a witch's brew.

CAN I COME IN ?

Peter shook his head in amusement, something hard lodged in his chest. "Why?"

Scrubbing his first question away with the obscured lines of his forearm, he once again scrabbled his way around backwards letter.

YOU MISSED ME Y/N?

Peter laughed audibly that time, knocking his middle finger knuckle against the 'N' and watching as Johnny threw himself back against the wobbling railing in offense. 

Pushing his glasses back into his hair, Peter rubbed tiredly at his eyes while he waited out the other's antics. It wasn't long--by the time he had the frames settled back on the length of his nose, Johnny was writing again.

LIAR. Underlined twice.

"I've been busy," Peter supplied with innocent eyes. "You know, like some people are."

I'VE BEEN BUSY :(

He was fast at it, frowning in tandem with the face he'd drawn as he looked up to meet Peter's eyes. He hesitated, but with a quick, delicate touch, he added: (I MISSED YOU)

Then: (ASSHOLE)

Peter didn't even let the letters fog back up before he started tugging the window open, laying palms on whatever exposed, muggy skin he could. He hauled him in, only letting him get halfway through the sill before he was pressing kisses into his mouth, fingers in his hair.

This was what they did; they missed one another and let it build and fester until it scarred, and only then did they pick at it. Never when it was raw--they both knew what that meant.

"Close the window," Peter muttered somehwere by the dimple by the right side of Johnny's mouth, the smell of warmth in his nose and in his throat and in his chest. 

"What, you don't need anymore strays?" Johnny asked, dragging the window back into place with a distracted hand. 

"Already got my hands full with the one I've got," Peter agreed, twisting his hands farther into the slightest of curls and the front of a tasteful Burberry coat.

Pressing his face into the crook of Peter's neck, Johnny hummed into the mole-dotted skin there. "Yeah, you really have got me," he said, settling his mouth softly against the shoulder of Peter's t-shirt.

He closed his eyes, expecting a hitch to Peter's breath, his palms on his chest pushing him back, any sort of sign that he understood the weight of Johnny's mumured words.

But there was only an exhale, a spasm of long, beat-to-hell-and-back fingers, a nose nudged close to the shell of an ear, and then feet tripping to sink them into the couch.

"You got plans tonight?" Peter asked, adjusting his hip around the shooter poking out from between the cushions as Johnny rolled onto his side and braced a hand under his chin. "They're saying it's gonna be a bad one," Peter continued, "wouldn't want you to melt."

"Yeah, why do you think I'm here? I know you still haven't fixed your heat-"

"I thought you were here because you missed me. You're crossing lies, Storm, it's sloppy."

"- _and I like you better unfrozen_."

Peter's mouth clipped shut, fingers finally untangling to nudge his glasses back up his face. "Well- thanks."

Johnny laughed, a soft exhalation through his nose that spurred the smallest upturn of his lips. He leaned down, nosed quietly at Peter's cheek before setting another kiss to his mouth. It was a slow thing, pliant and sure-footed, comfortable in a way they hadn't let it cross the line into before.

The wound had split open, pulsing heartbeats all over the carpet, but Peter had plenty of bandages hidden around his place, could triage with the best of them at a moment's notice. There was no doubt they were in unfamiliar territory, but no doubt either that they'd survive it.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm on tumblr @foxmulldr and my 3 word drabble requests are permanently open! send me 3 words + a character/characters, a ship, or a fandom, and i'll write you a drabble kinda like this one!!


End file.
